Road To Heaven
by hbwgonnabe
Summary: Finished! When Joe gets kidnapped, he's introduced to a way to get into Heaven on earth but the only thing is, now that he's experienced it, he's become addicted to it..Continued in Highway To Hell if you want to know how it turns out.
1. Chapter One

Road to Heaven  
Chapter One  
  
"Hand it over," eighteen year old, brown haired, brown eyed Frank Hardy demanded of his year younger, blond headed, blue eyed brother, coming into the living room.  
"Hand what over?" Joe asked innocently, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looked up from the comic he was reading.  
"What are you looking for honey?" asked blond, petite, green eyed Laura Hardy, the boys mother, looking up from her magazine.  
"I was supposed to get a letter from Callie today," Frank told her, frowning at his little brother. "She mailed it two days ago and Joe got the mail this morning," he finished.  
"Joe, did Frank get a letter from Callie?" Laura asked.  
"Callie who?" Joe asked, cocking his head as if trying to remember the name.  
"Joesph," Laura said sternly.  
"All right," Joe grumbled with an exaggerated sigh. "Geez! I can't have any fun," he added, pulling an unopened envelope from between the pages of his comic and tossing it to his brother who caught it and hurried back up the stairs to read it.  
Laura sighed and shook her head then returned to the article she had been reading. Joe, bored, put his comicc down, stood up and stretched. "I think I'll head down to the park," he told his mother. "Maybe someone's got a game going." Laura smiled up at him as he kissed her cheek before leaving.  
Joe arrived at the park about twenty minutes later. There were a few elementary aged kids playing on the field so Joe strolled through the park and came out near Fred's Soda Shop. Joe went in and had a soda, waiting around to see if any of his friends came in.  
Joe decided the worst part of summer vacation wasn't the heat, it was the fact that most of his friends were either on vacation with their families or had taken summer jobs. He sighed and started down the street. Maybe he would go to the arcade and play Alien Terminator. He hadn't beat the high score on it yet. Too hot to traipse around the block, he decided to take a short cut through the alley. Half-way down, he noticed his shoe was untied and stopped to tie it. As he was doing so, he heard someone step into the alley.  
"Let's make this quick," hissed a male voice. Joe peered over the trash can he was behind and looked at the speaker. He was tall, maybe four inches taller than Joe's own six foot frame, had curly brown hair and dark skin. He was wearing a brown suit with a white dress shirt and brown tie. In his hand he held a black briefcase which he set atop another trash can and opened.  
The man to whom the first had been speaking to, wearing a gray tee shirt and jeans, with black hair which sported wisps of gray around the temple, stepped close and picked up something from within the briefcase. Joe gasped when he saw the man holding a packet of bills.  
"Half a million dollars as agreed on," said the man in the suit.  
The other man put the stack of bills back into the briefcase and held up the plain brown paper bag he had been holding. He reached his hand inside while the other man's eyes grew in anticipation. But whatever he had been expecting he never got to see because he fell backwards into the wall as blood started spreading across his shirt. He opened his mouth to scream but the man in the tee shirt lifted the bag, now with no bottom and a silencer showing through, and fired at the man's head. The man in the suit slid down the building out of Joe's sight.  
Joe looked at the man in the tee shirt again, memorizing every detail. He saw the killer tuck the gun into his jeans before closing the briefcase and locking it.  
Joe held his breath, waiting for him to turn and leave, but instead of retreating the way he had entered, he headed down the alley. Joe quickly scooted over as far as he could, hoping the man would walk on by without noticing him but Joe was out of luck. Before Joe's back had even touched the wall, he was staring into the business end of the killer's gun. 


	2. Chapter Two

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Two  
  
Joe stood up slowly. "Hold out your arms," the musclar killer ordered Joe. Joe slowly put out his arms, palm side down. "Turn'em over," he was ordered. Joe did as he was told. "What's your name?" the killer demanded, looking Joe in the eyes.  
"Joe," he replied.  
"How old are you?" was the man's next question.  
"Seventeen," Joe answered. "What does it matter anyway?" he demanded. "You're just going to kill me."  
"Not if you do exactly as you're told," he surprised Joe by saying. "My name's Kenny," he introduced himself, still keeping the gun trained on Joe. "You're not one of the ones I'm after," he explained. "As soon as I've finished, I'll release you but if you try to get away, I will kill you," he warned.  
He held out the briefcase. "Take it," he ordered Joe. Joe took the briefcase and Kenny used his freed hand to take Joe's arm. "I live near here," he told Joe. "We're going to go to my house. Don't cause a scene and don't draw any attention to us. I don't want to kill innocent people, but I will if I have to. Understand?"  
Joe nodded and the two walked down the alley. Kenny looked around to see if anyone were watching but the humidity was high and most people were staying inside with their air conditioners on. Kenny and Joe walked down the street, stopping beside a pale blue van. Kenny ordered Joe into the back, following him inside and closing the door. He then picked up a roll of gray masking tape and wrapped Joe's wrists behind his back. He then put another piece ove Joe's mouth and wrapped Joe's ankles. Satisfied Joe was secure, he climbed through to the front.  
They drove for several minutes before Joe remembered he had his pocket knife on him. He twisted until he could get his fingers into his shorts pocket and got a hold of it. He pulled it from the pocket and was attempting for a firmer grip when the van hit a bump and the knife jumped out of his hand and slid to the back of the van. Before he could get close enough to retrieve it, Kenny pulled the van to a stop. He climbed out of the driver's side and walked around and opened the side door. He grabbed Joe and threw him over his shoulder then picked up the briefcase.  
A couple of moments later, Joe was dumped on the ground beside a green oldsmobile. Kenny opened the trunk and put Joe inside with the briefcase and locked the lid. Seconds later, they were once again on the road.   
Less than ten minutes later, Joe felt the car slow down, make a turn and come to a stop. The trunk popped open and Kenny reached in and removed the tape from Joe's ankles. He helped Joe out of the trunk. Joe looked around and saw they were in a garage. Kenny herded Joe through a door and into a kitchen. As they passed through the living room toward a door leading to the basement, Joe's eyes widened in surprise. Kenny hadn't been lying. He did live near the soda shop and park. The house Joe saw on the opposite side of the street belonged to the Hoopers who lived only a block away from the Hardys.  
In the basement, Joe was forced to sit with his back to a cement column and then tied to it, his wrists still taped behind him. Then his feet were rewrapped with tape and Kenny left the basement, leaving the light on.  
Frank had gone to his room and read his letter. Callie Shaw, his blond headed, green eyed seventeen year old girlfriend wouldn't be coming back home to Bayport for another week. He wrinkled his nose at this news. This summer so far had been a bust. Callie had gone with her family to visit some cousins. Joe's girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, had accompanied her mother to Europe, and their best friends had all signed up at various camps as counselors. Frank and Joe had been going to sign up also, but their father had requested their help on one of his cases at the end of the school year and they had stayed to help him. The case was long ago solved and boredom was setting in.   
At least he had his weekly chess game to look forward to, he thought, checking the time. He went on-line where he connected to a friend of his in Russia whom he had met in England as an exchange student. They played two games of chess, Frank losing both games. He finally logged off three hours later.  
Frank went downstairs. "Where's Joe?" he asked his mother, stepping into the kitchen and finding her making a pitcher of lemonade.  
"He went to the park," she answered, looking over her shoulder at him. "Why don't you go find him and I'll have lunch ready by the time you return?" she suggested.  
"Can I have a glass of that first?" he asked, his brown eyes twinkling at her.  
Frank reached the park twenty minutes later. He asked around to see if anybody had seen Joe. "Yeah," said a blond headed, blue eyed girl of about thirteen. "He was leaving the park," she told him. Frank thanked her and headed out of the park. He stopped in at the soda shop.  
"Hey Frank," he was greeted by the counterman. "What'll you have today?"  
"Nothing, thanks," Frank declined with a smile. "I'm looking for Joe."  
"Try the arcade. He mentioned it on his way out about an hour ago."  
"Thanks," Frank said, leaving. He started down the street, slowing down as he reached the alley. His smile became a frown as he saw Sergeant Con Riley, a friend of his and Joe's, hanging yellow crime tape around the alley.  
"What's up?" Frank asked the brown haired young officer as he reached the alley's entrance.  
Con looked up and saw Frank. "We've got a murder on our hands," he informed Frank.  
"Joe?" Frank whispered, his face draining of all color as he began to feel light headed.  
"No," Con quickly assured him. "A drug dealer," he said. "Why did you think it might be Joe?" he asked curiously.  
Frank explained about Joe heading toward the arcade and possibly having taken the alley as a short cut.  
"Do you know about what time Joe might have been by here?" Con asked. "He might have seen something."  
"About an hour ago," Frank replied.  
Con nodded. "That's about how long we figure this guy's been dead. He must have busted his watch against the wall because it stopped at ten twenty eight." He looked Frank in the eyes. "Do you have your cell phone on you?" he asked.  
Frank shook his head. "Why?"  
"Then go to the pay phone," Con ordered him, pointing to one a few yards away. "Call the arcade and ask Joe to get back here."   
Frank nodded and went over to the pay phone. After looking up the number, he made the call. When he hung up, he made another. Returning to Con, his forehead was creased with worry lines. "Joe hasn't been there," he said. "I called home, but mom said he hasn't gotten back or called."  
"It's early yet," Con said. "Look, don't worry," he continued, knowing Frank would anyway until Joe did turn up. "If Joe had seen something then he would have reported it."  
"You're right," Frank admitted, feeling a little better. "And if the killer had seen Joe, then there would have been two bodies in the alley." 


	3. Chapter Three

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Three  
  
Frank looked for Joe at a few more places, but having no luck, returned home. He and his mother barely touched the lunch she had prepared as they waited for Joe to get home. After lunch, Frank went outside to mow the lawn. He was half-way finished when his mother came to the back door and called him.  
"Con just phoned," she told him. "He wants you to meet him at the old Tucker place off Highway Nine." She looked worried as Frank stopped the mower and came to the house. "He said it had something to do with earlier," she said. "What happened earlier?"  
Frank kissed her forehead. "Con's in charge of a new investigation," he told her with a calmness he didn't feel. "He probably wants mine and Joe's input."  
Frank got into his and Joe's van and drove out to the old Tucker place. He pulled to a stop beside one of the police cruisers present and got out. He saw Con speaking with another officer and walked over. "What's up?" Frank asked Con.  
Con looked over at Frank. "Have you heard from Joe?" he asked, an anxious look on his face.  
"Not yet," Frank responded. "Why?"  
Con didn't reply. Instead, he lifted up a plastic bag and handed it to Frank. Frank looked at the contents, a Swiss Army Knife with the initials JH carved into it's handle. "It's Joe's," Frank said quietly, looking back up at Con.  
"The van was stolen early this morning," Con told Frank. "It was seen near the alley at the time of the murder," he added softly, placing a comforting hand on Frank's shoulder.  
"But why?" Frank asked in confusion. "Why would he kill..."  
"Doug Testerman," Con supplied Frank with the victim's name.  
"Why kill Testerman and leave his body but take Joe?" Frank asked. "It doesn't make sense." He shook his head. "What do you have so far?" he demanded, looking into Con's concerned blue eyes.  
"No leads on our killer but we've got a long rap sheet on the victim," Con told him. "Come on down to headquarters and I'll get you a copy. When's your dad due back?"  
"I don't know," Frank replied, running a hand through his hair nervously. "Yesterday when I talked to him he said he would be out of touch until he wrapped up the case he was on."  
Less than an hour later, Frank was at the police station looking at Testerman's rap sheet. "Busted eight times for pushing but never made it to trial," Frank said in disgust, looking up from the the sheet of paper in his hand. "Why not?"  
"His lawyer kept getting him off on technicallities," Con informed Frank. "Testerman probably tried to rip off his backers and they took him down."  
"Maybe not," Frank said, a theory emerging. "Someone like that would have killed Joe outright," he argued. "Maybe whoever killed Testerman was settling a score because he felt justice hadn't been served."  
"If that's the case, we've got a long list of suspects," Con said with a frown.  
"Can you get a list?" Frank asked, lifting an eyebrow questioningly.  
Con nodded. "It may take some time," he added. "Go home. Whoever took Joe may call with a ransom demand." Frank started to argue but Con headed him off. "All you have is a theory," he reminded Frank. "Joe could have been the target and Testerman just ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
Realizing Con had a point, Frank left after making Con promise to get back to him with the list of possible suspects.  
  
Joe had finally given up trying to get out of his bonds and sat staring glumly at the wall in front of him. He had no idea how long he had been in the basement, but his stomach gave a loud groan of desire when the door opened and the aroma of spaghetti floated into his nostrils. He heard the stairs creak as Kenny came down them carrying a tray with a glass of milk, a plate of spaghetti and two slices of mozzarella covered garlic bread in a saucer on the side.  
Joe's stomach growled again as Kenny set the tray beside Joe with a smile. "I thought you might be getting hungry." He reached over to remove the tape but paused and looked Joe in the eyes. "You scream and you go hungry," he warned. Joe nodded his understanding and Kenny pulled the tape off.  
As he fed Joe, Kenny told him how his son had died from an overdose and about the men who were responsible had gotten off. "So you're giving them your own brand of justice?" Joe asked, after he swallowed the last bite of garlic bread.  
"Yeah," Kenny agreed, picking up the almost empty glass of milk and letting Joe finish it.   
"It's still murder," Joe told him. "You're going to get caught."  
"I don't care," Kenny replied. "After the men responsible for Craig's death are dead then I'll let you go. You can turn me in. It won't matter anymore," he gazed at Joe with the saddest green eyes Joe had ever seen.  
Joe felt sorry for the man but he still had to be stopped. "How long do you think you'll have to keep me here?" he asked.  
"Testerman was the second one," Kenny responded. "There are two more and then you can leave. Shouldn't take longer than a week," he said thoughtfully.  
"My family will be out of their minds by then," Joe protested. "They're probably already worried sick."  
Kenny frowned, realizing Joe was right. "Tell you what," he said, feeling sympathy with Joe's parents. "I'll let you talk to your family, but," he stressed the word, "if you say anything about what I'm up to or even breathe about where you are, then I'll take you somewhere else and leave you. Got it?" Joe nodded.  
Kenny put a piece of tape over Joe's mouth and went back upstairs. He was back in a couple of minutes with a cell phone. Taking the tape back off of Joe's mouth, he asked for the number.  
"555-8264," Joe replied and waited while Kenny punched in the number and put the phone up to his ear.  
"Hello," Frank's worried voice came through before the first ring had finished.  
"Frank," Joe said, looking at Kenny. "I'm okay."  
"Where are you?" Frank demanded loud enough for Kenny to hear. "I've been looking for you all day. So are the police," he added.  
Joe saw Kenny stiffen. "Tell them not to," he said quickly. "I'm fine and... and I'll be home in about a week."  
"Where are you? What's going on?" Frank demanded.  
"I'm not allowed to say," Joe told him. "But I'm okay, really. He doesn't want to hurt me. Look, I'll be home in time for the trip we planned with Biff," he added, throwing Frank a clue to his whereabouts. "Just don't worry. I love you and tell mom and dad I love them and I'll see them soon."  
"Joe," Frank said into the receiver, but it was too late. They had been disconnected. 


	4. Chapter Four

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Four  
  
"Who is Frank?" Kenny asked Joe, putting the phone up.  
"My brother," Joe answered.  
"You sound close," Kenny observed.  
"We are," Joe admitted as he started squirming.  
"Stop trying to get loose," Kenny ordered Joe immediately, his eyes hardening.  
"I can't help it," Joe retorted. "I need to go to the bathroom."  
Kenny frowned. "I forgot about that," he said with an apologetic shrug of his broad shoulders. He let Joe loose and helped him to stand up. "There's a bathroom over here in the corner," he said, helping Joe over to it while the blood started circulating through his legs again. "If you want a shower you can wear some of Craig's clothes," he added, noticing how much Joe had perspired during the day.  
"Thanks," Joe replied with a faint smile going into the bathroom and closing the door.  
Kenny raced upstairs locking the door behind him. When he returned he had two towels, shampoo, soap, a washcloth, and some clothes which looked about the same size as Joe was. He knocked on the bathroom door and Joe, who had just finished, opened up.  
Joe took the offered items and closed the door again. Thirty minutes later he stepped out of the bathroom, refreshed, wearing a pair of banana colored cargo shorts and a lavender tee shirt. "Do you have to tie me back up?" Joe asked, seeing Kenny pick up some rope. "You could just lock the basement door or something."  
"Sorry Joe," Kenny apologized. "I've got work to do and I couldn't do it if I had to worry about you getting free." He noticed Joe's depressed look. "I will let you lie down though," he added.  
"Beats sitting next to that block all the time," Joe replied.  
"Over here," Kenny ordered Joe. He was no longer armed but had so many muscles Joe knew he would never be able to overpower him, so he complied and sat where Kenny pointed. Kenny had laid the rope down and picked up the masking tape. He bound Joe's wrists behind his back and then his ankles. Finally, he put one more piece over Joe's mouth. "I'll see you in the morning kid," he said as he stood up. Then he climbed the stairs, turned the light off and closed and locked the door. Soon, Joe was asleep.  
  
After Frank hung up the phone his mother demanded to know what Joe had said. Frank repeated the conversation, a toughtful look on his face. "I'm going over to the Hoopers," he told her.   
"But Biff is at camp," she said. "Oh!" she suddenly realized why Joe had mentioned a trip with Biff. "He's being held a prisoner somewhere near the Hoopers."  
"Right," Frank agreed. "I'll be back later," he promised, giving her aquick peck on the cheek before leaving.  
Frank walked over to the Hoopers, loking to see if he could spot anyone suspicious. He waved at the Millers and Harrisons who were having a barbeque and helped old Mrs. Wheeler carry in her groceries. He arrived at the Hoopers not having seen anyone he had seen a thousand times before.  
"Hello Frank," Mrs. Hooper said, smiling when she opened the door and saw Frank standing there. "Biff isn't back from camp yet," she informed him.  
"I know," Frank told her, smiling back. "Can I come in?" he asked.  
"Of course," she replied, a questioning look in her pale blue eyes as she backed up and allowed him to enter. "Is something wrong?" she asked, closing the door behind him.  
"Joe's been kidnaped," he replied tersely, going into the living room where Mr. Hooper stood waiting to greet their unexpected guest. "When I got to talk to him he mentioned Biff."  
"You surely don't think we had anything to do with it?" Mr. Hooper stormed angrily, taking a threating step toward Frank. 


	5. Chapter Five

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Five  
  
"Of course not," Frank hurriedly assured the irate man. "But I do think he may be somewhere in this neighborhood. Have you noticed anyone suspicious hanging around?" Both Hoopers shook their heads. "What about neighbors? Any new ones?"  
"Just Kenny," Mrs. Hooper answered. "But he's such a dear man he couldn't have anything to do with kidnaping Joe," she assured him.  
"When did he move in?" Frank asked.  
"Right after school let out," Mr. Hooper informed him. "He tends to keep to himself a lot."  
"He seems so sad," Mrs. Hooper added. "But he's always so helpful."  
"How so?" Frank queried.  
"Oh, he mows Mrs. Wheeler's lawn," Mrs. Hooper explained. "And when the Harrison twins got their ball stuck on our roof, he climbed up to get it down."  
"What's his last name?" Frank asked.   
"Wallace," Mr. Hooper said. "Do you really suspect him?"  
"Joe said his kidnaper didn't want to hurt him," Frank answered. "But he killed a known drug dealer this morning, so maybe he's after revenge but doesn't want to hurt anyone innocent."  
"Then why kidnap Joe?" Mrs. Hooper asked in confusion.  
"Joe probably saw the murder and was taken captive so he couldn't talk," Frank surmised.  
"But he'll have to kill Joe to keep him quiet forever," Mrs. Hooper said worriedly.  
"I doubt he's thought that far ahead," Frank told her. "Do you mind if I use your phone?"  
"Go ahead," Mr. Hooper told him.  
Frank called Con at home knowing his shift had ended over two hours ago. When Con answered, Frank told him about Joe's call and about Kenny Wallace.  
"I got a partial list compiled earlier," Con told Frank. "There was a Craig Wallace who died from an overdose about ten months ago. His father's name was Kenny."  
"You think they're the same guy?" Frank questioned.  
"Possibly," Con answered. "Max Barnes, another known drug dealer who was associated with Testerman was murdered two days ago. Both men were involved in the case where Craig died."  
"Joe said he would be home in about a week," Frank remembered. "How many were involved in the case?"  
"Seven altogether," Con answered. "But only four got out of any prison time. Testerman, Barnes, Charlie Andrews and Josh Benton."  
"Find out what you can about Craig's dad," Frank ordered. "I'll call you tomorrow."  
"Right," Con agreed. "Give me until nine in the morning. I should have what we need by then," he added before hanging up.  
Frank replaced the receiver and looked over at Mr. Hooper. "Could you keep Kenny busy while I look around?" he asked.  
"I'll call and invite him over," Mrs. Hooper offered, coming over to the stand beside Frank. Kenny answered on the first ring and Mrs. Hooper asked if he would like to come over for some coffee.  
"Thank you ma'am," Kenny responded politely after she had issued her invitation, "but I have some business to attend to early in the morning and was just on my way to bed."  
"But it's early yet," Mrs. Hooper coaxed, noting it was barely after nine.  
"I must be getting old," he said. "I'm beat. Perhaps a rain check?"  
"Of course," she readily agreed before saying goodbye. Mrs. Hooper hung up with an apologetic shrug at Frank and told him what Kenny had said.  
Frank gave a discouraged sigh. "Thanks anyway," he said to Mrs. Hooper.  
"Would you like to stay in Biff's room?" Mr. Hooper offered. "You could keep an eye on the place."  
"That would be great!" Frank agreed, his eyes lightening up. "Are you sure you don't mind?"  
"Of course not," Mrs. Hooper answered for her husband. "Call your mom and let her know you'll be spending the night. I'll go and put on some clean sheets."  
"Thanks," Frank said gratefully, picking up the receiver again.  
  
Joe awoke with a start. He had heard a thud from upstairs. He held his breath and waited. There was another thud. He wondered what Kenny was doing.  
Across the street, Frank was wondering the same thing. He had seen the bedroom light come on and a few minutes later it had gone off again. Now another light had come on. He watched the window and saw two silhouettes in the window.   
His detective instincts on full alert, he slipped into his shoes and went down the stairs, and out the door. He cautiously made his way across the street. Peering into the window where the first light had appeared he felt a hand squeeze his heart. Lying on the bed, covered in blood was a large, muscular man. 'Was this Kenny?' Frank wondered. 'And if so, what had happened to Joe?' 


	6. Chapter Six

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Six  
  
Joe had decided that something was seriously wrong upstairs. He kept struggling with the tape but to no avail. He paused, his eyes widening in fear as the basement door opened. A penlight clicked on and Joe could hear someone coming down the stairs. The light landed on him and froze for a fraction of a second as a familiar voice whispered, "Joe."  
Frank rushed over to his brother and pulled out a pocket knife, cutting the tape from Joe's wrists. As he cut, he quietly told Joe about the dead man upstairs and the two men searching the place.  
After Joe's wrists were free, Frank set to work getting the tape off Joe's ankles while Joe removed the tape from his mouth. "They're probably looking for the half a million dollars in the briefcase Kenny took from the guy he killed," he told Frank.  
Frank finished hacking the tape and folded his pocket knife, putting it back into his pocket. He helped Joe to stand. "We'd better get out of here and call the police," Frank said. He turned to walk back tot he steps leaving Joe to follow but Joe's ankles had been immobile too long and when he started to follow Frank, fell instead. Frank turned in time to catch Joe before he fell to the floor.  
"Sorry," Joe whispered.  
"It's okay," Frank replied, easing Joe back into a sitting position. He began rubbing Joe's left leg vigourously to get his circulation back to normal while Joe started rubbing his right leg, although at a slower pace. "Where is the briefcase?" Frank asked.  
"I don't know," Joe admitted. "He left it in the car while he brought me down to the basement." Joe stood up, testing his legs. "Let's go," he said, wincing a little as the pins and needles did their dirty work, returning his circulation to full force.  
Frank went first, pausing at the basement door to listen for the prowlers. Hearing nothing, he eased the door open and cautiously, the two boys made their way out of hte house and across the street. Frank opened the Hoopers front door and they went inside. They must have made some noise because Mr. Hooper came into the living room dressed in his pajamas and wearing slippers.   
"Joe!" he said, his eyes widening in delight. "You're okay."  
"Yeah," Joe said, grinning as Frank picked up the phone and called the police.  
Mr. Hooper listened to Frank's side of the conversation quietly. "Kenny's dead?" he asked, after Frank had hung up. Frank nodded. "I can't believe it," he said, taking Joe's shoulder and squeezing it. "He just didn't seem like the kind of person who would kill someone and kidnap an innocent boy."  
"Apparently his son meant everything to him," Joe siad compassionately. "He planned on killing the four men he blamed for Craig's death then he was going to let me go. He knew I would tell the cops but he didn't care."  
"So who were the two men who killed Kenny?" Mr. Hooper asked.  
Frank shrugged. "Could be the other two men Kenny was after or whoever Testerman worked for."  
"Testerman?" Joe asked. Frank told Joe what he had learned from Con.  
The police arrived across the street and it didn't take long to realize the killers had departed. The entire neighborhood had woken up and some were peering out the windows while the braver ones had come outside to their porches to watch the scene.   
Frank thanked the Hoopers for their help then he and Joe went outside to speak with Chief Collig, leaving the Hoopers peering out their living room window.  
Ezra Collig, Bayport's tall, graying Chief of Police looked at the Hardys as they approached. "Are you all right?" he asked Joe.  
"I'm fine," Joe assurred him. "Do you know who killed Kenny?" he asked.  
"Wallace killed two men and kidnaped you, yet you seem sad he's dead," Chief Collig said in puzzlement, looking at Joe with concern.  
"I felt sorry for him," Joe admitted. "He may have held me hostage but he was nice about it."  
At this, even Frank frowned at him. "What exactly happened?" he asked. "And where did you get those clothes?"  
"Wait," Chief Collig ordered. "Let's do this some place more private, like the station," he suggested, inclinging his head slightly at tthe people who were wactching and listening.  
Chief Collig left Detective Lt. Stevenson in charge of the crime scene and climbed into his police cruiser with Frank beside him and Joe in the back. At headquarters, Chief Collig had someone come in his office to take Joe's statement. Joe told them everything that had happened since he had left the soda shop.  
"Well, that's two murders solved and one wide open," Chief Collig said after Joe had finished. "Frank, you said you saw two silhouettes. Did you by any chance get a look at the men when you were rescuing Joe?"  
"Sorry," Frank apologized. "After I saw Kenny's body, all I could think about was getting to Joe before they did," he explained. "But they were definitely guys I saw through the shade. One was large with long hair and a long beard and the other had short hair. I'd say the one with the beard was about six foot two inches, maybe two hundred and twenty pounds while the short-haired one was six foot four and roughly one hundred and eight pounds."  
Chief Collig shook his head. It always amazed him how much information Frank could gather in a glance. "I want you two to be careful," he told them. "You may not have gotten a clear look at them but the may have gotten one of you."  
Frank called a cab and soon there was a happy reunion between Joe and his mother. Joe had to tell her about his ordeal over a midnight snack of sandwiches and lemonade, after which they all went to bed.  
The next morning, Joe was up bright and early. He had a diffulcult time sleeping because he kept thinking about Kenny. Too early still to wake up Frank or his mom, he decided to change the oil in the van. He went down the stairs and out through the kitchen. Opening the garage, he walked inside and grabbed several bottles of oil off one of the shelves. Then he picked up a pan and placed it on the ground beside the van. Deciding he might need a flashlight since sunrise had just began, he opened the door of the van and scrounged around until he found one.   
Stepping back, he closed the van's door and, pulling a tool chest close, he lay down on the ground and scooted under the van. He flipped on the flashlight and aimed it in the direction he needed. His eyes went wide with shock as he saw a miniature timer counting down! 


	7. Chapter Seven

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Seven  
  
Frank fell out of bed as an explosion ripped through the still air. He quickly got to his feet and raced to the window. Looking down, he saw the garage on fire. Racing out of his room, he nearly collided with his mother who had also been awakened by the explosion. "Call the fire department," he ordered her, running down the stairs. "The garage is on fire."  
When Frank reached the garage, he heard coughing from within and knew immediately why his brother hadn't joined him on his mad dash outside. "Joe!" Frank shouted, running into the burning garage.  
There was Joe, coughing like mad, as he held a fire extinguisher and tried to aim it at the flames. Frank came over and took the extinguisher from Joe. He aimed it at the flames and sprayed until it was empty. Then he pulled off the tee shirt he had slept in and finished beating out the embers.  
Joe was on his knees coughing so Frank pulled him up and, placing one of Joe's arms over his shoulders, he wrapped an arm around Joe's waist and half carried him outside into the fresh air. Frank fell to his knees in the yard and eased Joe onto his back.  
Joe's coughing gradually ceased as fresh air coursed through his lungs. He lay, gulping the air in as a fire truck arrived on the scene followed by an ambulance, and a police car. Laura came running down the porch steps as Joe sat up.  
"Are you okay?" Laura aksed anxiously looking back and forth between her two sons.  
"I'm fine, thanks to Frank," Joe said, smiling gratefully up at his brother.  
"Any time, baby brother," Frank said, smiling back, even though his forehead was wrinkled with worry lines. The paramedics came over and checked Joe out. Declaring him fit, they left the scene.  
"What happened?" Con asked as he came over to the Hardys. Before anyone couls answer he looked down at Joe. Smiling, he said, "It was a relief to hear you were okay."  
"You read the report?" Frank asked.  
Con nodded. "It's still my case," he replied, getting serious. Then he brought the subject back to the present. "What caused the fire?" he asked.  
"And the explosion?" Laura asked.  
"I couldn't sleep so I decided to change the oil in the van," Joe told them. "When I got under the van, I found a bomb attatched tot he steering. I must have triggered the timer on it when I closed the door after getting a flashight out. Anyway, it had less than two minutes on it, so I disconnected it for the van. I was going to toss it outside in the empty lot across the street but when I got up, I tripped over the oil and dropped it in the pan I use to change the oil. It exploded and the pan and some rags caught fire."  
Joe made a grimace and looked up at Frank. "The light from the explosion affected my vision for a bit but I grabbed the fire extinguisher and was trying to aim it when you got there."  
"Who would have put a bomb on your van?" Laura asked in concern, looking at Joe to make sure he was okay as Frank offered him a hand and pulled Joe to his feet.  
"Whoever killed Kenny," Frank replied. "Con, do you have some pictures to go with those names you gave me yesterday?"  
"I do," Con admitted. "I also found out all I could about Craig Wallace. You can come down to the station and look the file over," he offered.  
"Let's go," Joe said, neglecting the fact Frank was still in his pajama pants.  
"After breakfast," Laura told him sternly. "Would you like some?" she asked Con who thanked her for the offer but declined.  
Joe cleaned up the garage and checked to make sure there were no more surprises and no more surprises and no damage to the van while Laura prepared breakfast and Frank went to get dressed.  
During breakfast, Frank and Joe discussed the case, planning to pay a visit to Charlie Andrews after they stopped in at headquarters.   
"Please be careful," their mother begged, worried, as always, when her sons began an investigation.  
"We will," Frank promised, kissing her on the left cheek as he left the house.  
"Don't worry, we know what we're doing," Joe assured her, kissing her right cheek as he followed Frank outside.  
At the police station, Officer Binnet handed Frank a file Con had left for them. They stook a seat and read through everything Con had been able to gather. Finishing, they put everything back in order, returned the file, and prepared to leave.   
"Wait up!" Con shouted at Frank and Joe as they started to leave. "I found a picture of Craig," he told them, holding out a photo. There was a boy, about eighteen years old, wearing the same clothing Kenny had given Joe to put on after his shower. He had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He looked like he weiged slightly more than Joe and could have been a little taller. "Kenny was probably so nice to you because you reminded him of his own son," Con surmised.  
Joe shook his head. "We don't look anything alike," he denied.  
"No," Con agreed. "But you're both young and, according to Craig's roommate, you and Craig could have been soulmates."  
Frank raised his eyebrows questioningly at this remark. "Craig was impulsive and rash," Joe frowned, "but always willing to do anything to help out someone in need," Con finished, smiling at Joe. "He liked race cars, girls and horror flicks and he was a star athelete in high school."  
"Who was his roommate?" Joe asked, planning on finding out how Craig got involved with drug dealers in the first place.  
"Terry Mikeal," Con answered. "His address is 1417 Sneedham Drive, apartment 702. He's nineteen, with blond hair and with a blond mustache," Con added.  
The boys thanked Con and left the station. "Let's go pay a visit to Terry before we see Andrews," Joe suggested as they climbed into the van.  
"You must be reading my mind," Frank replied with a sideways glance at his brother in the passenger seat. He started the motor and they were off. Twenty minutes later, they pulled on to Sneedham Drive. Frank parked the van and they got out and made their way to the apartment building.  
"Doesn't look much, does it?" Joe asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste as he looked at the eight story brick building. The entry way had no door and graffiti covered the lower walls. Half the windows on the bottom three floors had been broken and the place held the unmistakable odor of one which had been recently fumigated.  
"Stay alert," Frank ordered Joe, silently agreeing with him. His gaze had not only taken in the building's appearance, but also the appearance of some rough looking characters standing off to the side of the building. One of whom had a long beard and long hair. Frank thought this could be one of the man who had killed Kenny the night before.  
"Check out the groupies on the left," Frank whispered to Joe, his lips barely moving. Joe's eyes moved in the direction Frank had told him, although he remained facing the building's entrance.   
"Gotcha," Joe whispered back, recognizing the profile Frank had given Chief Collig the previous evening.  
They went inside and climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. "Can you imangine a fire in this place?" Joe asked Frank as they arrived at Terry's apartment.  
"No way out," Frank replied, remembering the rusty fire escape outside.  
Joe knocked on the door. When it opened, he was so surprised that he crashed backward into Frank, who fell backwards into the railing. The railing, needing repair like everything else in the building, cracked under Frank's weight. Frank fell back into the empty void. 


	8. Chapter eight

Road to Heaven  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Joe threw himself down, managing to grasp one of Frank's feet as he fell, but Frank was too heavy and Joe was pulled forward toward the stairwell. The man who had opened the door grabbed Joe's waist, pulling with all his might. Joe's and Frank's downward momentum ceased and the man sat on Joe's back as he leaned over and grabbed Frank's leg. Pulling backward, Joe grunted in pain as he took the weight of his rescurer and Frank. The man got off of Joe and helped a shaken Frank and a sore Joe to their feet.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Frank hissed at the man, quietly, not daring to alert anyone to his prescence.  
  
"Come on inside," the man replied and preceded them into the apartment. "Now, what are you two doing here?" he asked, his green eyes questioning.  
  
Frank looked at the red haired man who stood an inch taller than his own six foot one frame. He had seen this man several thousand times but normally he looked like an older version of Frank, complete with brown hair and brown eyes.  
  
"Dad," Joe said, "what are you doing here? We thought you had gone undercover in Chicago."  
  
"I did," Fenton replied, sitting down in a chair and waving his sons over to a sofa. "But the trail came here," he added. "Now, what are you doing here?" he asked again and this time Frank and Joe both knew from the stern expression on their father's face no more of their questions would be answered until his was.  
  
Joe explained about witnessing Testerman's murder, his kidnapping, and Kenny's subsequent murder. Frank then took over and told his father Con had sent them here to talk to Terry Mikeal.  
  
"So why are you here and Terry isn't?" Joe demanded, his blue eyes alight with curiosity.  
  
"Peter Mikeal, Terry's father, works for the DEA in Chicago," Fenton explained. "He believes when Craig was murdered by being given an overdose of heroin, Terry was the real target."  
  
"Do you have any idea who did kill Craig?" Joe asked.  
  
"Not an idea, Son," Fenton replied. "Barnes, Andrews, Benton, and Testerman were in charge of the hit, but Testerman is the one who did the actual killing."  
  
"So Kenny got his justice after all," Joe said softly, causing his father to look at him sharply.  
  
"Joe, what Kenny did was wrong. There is no excuse for what he did," Fenton said sternly.  
  
"I know that," Joe replied, his blue eyes still sad. "But the man lost the person in the world he cared most about. It's understandable he would want justice," Joe pointed out.  
  
"That was murder, not justice," Frank argued.  
  
"Yeah," Joe said softly, but his voice got louder with his next words. "But if all justice does is protect the guilty, then what?"  
  
"Joesph!" Fenton shouted, rising to his feet and glaring at his youngest son. "You know better than that."  
  
"Do I?" Joe retorted, standing up and staring his father in the eyes. "How many men have you arrested who got no more than a slap on the wrist?" he demamded.  
  
"Sinking to their level isn't the way to get justice," Frank said, rising and joining in the arguement on his father's side.  
  
"Neither is giving up," Joe asserted and left before he could hear his father or brother agree with him.  
  
Joe went outside and got in the van. He pulled a notepad and pencil from the glove compartment and scribbled a note telling Frank he would be home by dark. Then he got out of the van, locking it behind him, and took off. Too upset and confused to pay much attention to his surroundings, he never noticed the two men who followed as he turned the corner and left Sneedham Drive headed toward town.  
  
About a mile down the road Joe pasued in mid-stride and looked around as he heard a car slow down. "Need a lift?" asked a man with short black hair and hazel eyes from inside a white Toyota.  
  
"No thanks," Joe replied with a slight frown. Something about the man made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. The man shrugged, waved at Joe, then drove on down the street around a curve and out of sight.  
  
After a few more yards, Joe heard footsteps advancing from behind. He turned and looked, his eyes widening as he saw two of the men from outside the apartment building. He took off running with the men in hot pursuit.   
  
Joe picked up his pace, putting distance between himself and the men as he reached the curve. He glanced back at his pursuers as he rounded the curve and came to a sudden, painful stop.  
  
He had crashed full speed into the Toyota which had just passed him. As he lay on the ground gasping for air, he looked up at the three men who now surrounded him.  
  
"So much trouble," said the man who had driven the Toyota, pulling a pre-filled syringe from his pocket and stooping beside Joe.  
  
He injected the needle into Joe's arm. His vision began to blur and although he tried to shout for help, his mouth would not work. As the other two men bent over Joe, everything faded to black. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Nine  
  
"What is wrong with your brother?" Fenton demanded of Frank after Joe had left.  
Frank shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he sat back down on the sofa. "I don't know," he replied. "He's been argumentive and a general pain almost all summer."  
Fenton gave a sigh as he sat back down. "I should have realized," he said with the smile of a man who had lived through this particular crisis before. "Joe has hit his rebellious stage."  
"His what?" Frank asked in disbelief.  
"Relax," Fenton soothed his eldest son. "Every teenager goes through it at some point in time. Even you."  
"Me?" Frank squeaked in disbelief. "I've never rebelled."  
"You don't remember being grounded for skipping school your freshman year and then sneaking out during your grounding to go to the movies?" Fenton tweaked Frank's memory. "Or keeping your stereo up so loud and refusing to turn it down. Your mother and I took it away from you so you took your brother's and cranked it up as high as it would go."  
"Okay, okay," Frank said, his face a dull red. "I get the picture. But this is not a good time for Joe to be out on his own," he added in concern.  
"It's never a good time," Fenton said. "But I know what you mean. From what you've told me, Kenny's killers must have seen you and Joe escaping. Did you get a look at them?"  
Frank gave his father the same information he had given to Chief Collig. Fenton frowned. "The one with the beard and long hair saounds like it could be Kurt Smyte," he told Frank. "Mikeal asked me to find Terry and send him home now because his source had told him Smyte and Benton were in Bayport and in the midst of a big deal."  
"What can we do?" Frank asked.  
Fenton frowned. "I wish yoour brother hadn't taken off," he said. "I don't like you, either of you, being without back-up."  
"I won't be," Frank assured his father. "Joe may be going through this phase as you say, but he would never let me down."  
"I know," Fenton replied with a smile. "Find Joe and stake out Benton's house. He has rented a place on Crawford Lane. It's a dead-end road and his is the only place up there."  
"Not a great place for a hide-out," Frank said. "What if there's a raid?"  
"There's a chopper pad in back," Fenton told Frank. "Take your cell phone but only use it in an emergency. I don't know if they have the means to pick-up your conversation but I would rather you didn't chance it," he added. "I'm going to check into the deal Mikeal told me about. It's supposed to be going down sometime during the next few days."  
Frank left his father and returned to the van. For some reason he felt slightly uneasy when he noted the abscense of the men who had been near the building when he and Joe had arrived. He unlocked the van and climbed inside. Immediately, he saw Joe's note and frowned in frustration. He would just have to go on the stakeout alone. He drove home to let his mom know and pick up some sandwiches and a thermos of kool-aid then, deciding it would be easier to hide his motorcycle, he pulled it out of the garage and rode it to Crawford Lane.  
He pulled off the road and hid the cycle behind some overgrown bushes. Then he cautiously made his way closer to the house. He picked out a tree and climbed up, making himself as comfortable as possible among the branches and leaves.  
He slipped out of his back pack and placed it securely against the trunk of the tree. He opened it up and removed a pair of binoculars. Looking through them he observed a white Toyota parked near the rear of the house. He could see one man with short black hair in the kitchen opening the refrigerator and pulling out two beers. The man disappeared from sight as he left the kitchen.  
The hours dragged by. It was almost dark when another car headed up the drive. Frank looked through the binoculars so he could get a closer look at the driver. The man got out of the car and went inside. A few minutes later, Frank could see the men in the kitchen. He climbed down from the tree and crept up to the kitchen window. They were talking about a baseball game. Frank frowned as he listened. He was totally wasting his time here.  
Tired, he decided to go home and get Joe. He would get some more sandwiches and they would come back. Leaving his backpack up the tree, he returned to his motorcycle and headed home.  
Frank pulled into the drive and parked his motorcycle, not bothering to take it into the garage. Inside he found his mother watching a thriller on cable. "Where's Joe?" he asked.  
"He hasn't gotten in yet," she said, a little worried. "He hasn't even called."  
"Don't worry," Frank said, giving her a peck on the cheek. "He's always late."  
Laura smiled at her son as she picked up the remote and turned the television off. She stood up and stretched. "I think I'll go to bed," she said. "Wake me if Joe doesn't get home soon."  
Frank shook his head. "Dad asked me to do a stake out," he told her. "Nothing was happening so I came back to get Joe and something to eat."  
"You're going back even though Joe's not home?" she asked, not sure she heard right.  
Frank nodded. "If he's in trouble, he'll be there," he told his mother. "If he does come home, I'll leave a note for him to go to Crawford Lane and give me a break."  
"All right," his mother said. "But be careful and keep a look-out for your brother."  
"I will," he promised, going into the kitchen. Laura followed and shooed him out. She stold him she would make some sanwiches while he took a shower. Frank looked down at his shirt and shorts and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah," he agreed with her. "Hanging out in a tree all day is a dirty prospect. He ran upstairs and showered. Coming out, he pulled on a tee shirt and a pair of jeans. The evening air was a bit cooler and Frank had a feeling a storm was brewing.  
He grabbed a jacket, just in case, and returned to the kitchen where his mother gave him the sandwiches and a cold bottle of water. He kissed her good night and returned to the house on Crawford Lane.  
Frank climbed back up the tree and retrieved his backpack. He found another observation point, on the ground this time, closer to the house and set up sentry. As the night wore on, the wind picked up. Frank put his jacket on, shivering as he watched a streak of lightening light up the distant sky.  
He looked at his watch and felt the first raindrop. Almost five a.m. He couldn't stay out here in the storm. He was going to have to go back home. He frowned as he thought about Joe. Why hadn't he come to relieve him? Had something happened to him?  
The answer came suddenly and frighteningly as he heard a loud cry for help. Frank's face paled as he recognized the cry as one from his brother. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Ten  
  
When Joe awoke, he found himself in an upright position. his wrists were in shackles attached to the ceiling of another basement. 'This is getting ridiculous,' he thought as he looked down and saw his ankles, each attached to metal rings on the wall via more shackles. He groaned in self-disgust as he remembered how easily he had let his guard down and been captured.  
He waited, silently, listening for a sound from his captors. Hearing nothing, he felt it safe to yell for help. He opened his mouth and yelled at the top of his lungs, "HEELLLLP!!!"  
The basement door opened and the three men eho had taken him prisoner came down the stairs at an unhurried pace. "Good morning," said the man from the car. "I'm afraid I gave you a little bit higher dose yesterday than I had intended. I was beginning to wonder if you would awaken at all."  
"What do you want?" Joe demanded, his blue eyes flashing angrily.  
"I want my money," Benton said, stepping in front of Joe and glaring at him. "You and Wallace took it from Testerman and I want it back."  
"I don't know where it is," Joe told him truthfully. "Why don't you ask your buddies?" Joe sneered. "They killed Kenny. They probably took your money and hid it."  
Benton backhanded Joe across the face. "I saw you get into the van with Wallace," he said, his voice even. "You and he hid it somewhere. Where is it?"  
"I told you, I don't know," Joe repeated.  
An evil glint came into Benton's eyes as he looked at Joe. "I can see we're going to have to do this the hard way," he said, removing his belt and handing it to the lond bearded man. "Kurt, position please," he requested.  
Kurt took the belt and walked behind Joe. "I'm going to ask you a question," Benton said. "If you don't give me the correct answer, Kurt will let you know."  
"I don't know anything," Joe told him again, trying desperately to get the man to believe him.  
"I don't believe I asked the first question, but," he paused, giving Joe a nasty grin, "wrong answer." The belt came down with force across Joe's back. He let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Almost immediately there was an explosion from outside.  
Kurt and the other man ran up the stairs and outside to see what was going on. Benton stayed in the basement with Joe. "A slight reprieve," he said in disdain, bending down and picking up the belt Kurt had dropped. "Perhaps a bit harder?" he asked, holding the belt so the buckle hung limp at the bottom. He moved behind Joe. "Where is it?" he asked again.  
"I don't know," Joe replied, reading himself for the pain. Benton brought his arm back and then threw it forward with force. Joe screamed as the buckle made an imprint through his shirt.  
"Where is it?" Benton demanded again.  
"Put it down and move away," came a voice from the stairs. Joe's heart leapt with joy as he recognized the voice. He looked over at the stairs and saw his brother coming down them, a revolver in his hand.  
"You won't shoot me," Benton smirked, looking at Frank. "I'm not armed."  
"Hit my brother again and you'll see," Frank replied, his voice even, his brown eyes, hard as steel. "Release him."  
"You won't leave here alive," Benton snarled, taking a key and stooping by Joe's ankle. "Neither of you."  
"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it," Frank told him coldly. "Hurry," he snapped. Benton finished unlocking the shackles which held Joe. Joe fell to the floor on his knees. "Are you going to be okay?" Frank asked in concern.  
Joe nodded and slowly got up, wincing in pain everytime he felt the fabric from his shirt touch the welts on his back. "Your turn," Joe told his former captor. He put the shackles on Benton and laid the key in the floor. He then took a bandana Frank handed him and gagged him.  
"Let's get out of here," Frank said, lowering the gun and going over to Joe. "The deversion I created outside won't keep those two busy forever."  
Frank and Joe made their way up the stairs and out of the basement. As they left the house Joe saw the diversion Frank had created. He had set the Toyota's engine on fire and Kurt and Andrews, Joe had recoginzed from his mug shot, almost had it under control.  
Joe grinned approvingly at Frank as they made their way to the motorcycle. Frank stopped to remove the bullets from the gun before placing it in a comaprtment under the seat.  
"Where did you get the gun?" Joe inquired.  
"It was on the kitchen table with a couple of others," Frank replied grimly. "I'll drop this one off at the police station after I get you home." He climbed on his motorcycle and Joe got on behnd him, gritting his teeth. As tender as his back was, this was going to hurt.  
When they arrived home, Frank helped Joe inside. Laura was awake and came running into the foyer when she heard them enter. "Joe!" she screamed, seeing the pale look on his face and Frank supporting him. "What happened?"  
"I'm okay," Joe quickly assured her with a wan smile. "Just very, very sore."  
"Benton beat him with a belt buckle," Frank explained tersely.  
Laura's eyes widened in horror as she reached out to give her youngest son a gentle hug. "Upstairs and in bed," she ordered. "I'll get some linament."  
"Oh Mom," Joe protested. "That stuff stinks."  
"No buts, young man," she stated firmly, her hands placed on her hips as she glared at him, her lips set in a hard line.   
Frank grinned. He couldn't help it. Joe weighed twice as much as their mother and was a full five inches taller but Joe swallowed his protest and meekly allowed Frank to help him up the stairs.  
Frank filled Joe in on their father's part in the case then he explained why he had been at Crawford Lane. "What did they want?" Frank asked.  
"They never found the money Kenny took," Joe replied as Frank helped him off with his shirt. "They thought I had it because they saw Kenny and me get into the van together after Testerman was shot."  
"Wait a minute," Frank said as something occurred to him. "It sounds like Testerman stole the money from Benton."  
"Yeah, so?" Joe demanded.  
"So, how would Benton know to be following Testerman? If he had seen him take the money, it looks like he would have killed Testerman on the spot."  
"So Benton had to have some business in town," Joe said, catching on. "With someone on Baker's Street," he added, naming the street he and Kenny had exited the alley on. "Let's check it out."  
"Not today," Frank said, then told him what their dad had said about staying around the house.  
Joe opened his mouth to argue but clamped it shut when his mother walked into the room. While Laura doctored Joe's back, Frank went downstairs and fixed breakfast. He brought Joe up a tray with toast, juice and cereal. After Joe had finished, his mother insisted he take a nap. "You too, Frank," she ordered.  
"I've got to run to the police station first," he said, following her downstairs and into the kitchen.  
"Why?" asked Fenton, standing in the kitchen and looking up as they entered. He had heard them talking as they neared.  
Frank told his father about his stakeout, Joe's capture and his rescue. He ended with the information about the revolver. "Go ahead and get some sleep," Fenton ordered Frank when he had finished. "You and Joe have work to do tonight," he added mysteriously. "I'll take the revolver to the station."  
"What kind of work?" Frank asked, sitting down at the table and pouring some flakes into a bowl.  
"I'll fill you in this afternoon," Fenton promised. "I';ve got to make sure everything's set-up and then I'll tell you boys everything. In the meantime," he continued, "get some rest and stay close to the house until I return."  
With these words, Fenton kissed his wife goodbye and left. "One of these days, I'm going to break both of his legs so he'll have to stay home for a while," Laura said in exasperation as she watched him leave. Frank grinned and ate his cereal, wisely saying nothing.  
It was late afternoon when Frank awoke. He got out of bed and stretched then walked over to lift the shade from his window. He could see Joe and Roger Greer, their next door neighbor, shooting hoops. He went to take a shower. When he had finished and dressed, he headed sownstairs and met Joe who had just come in, gleaming with sweat.  
"That thunderstorm this morning didn't help the humidity any," Joe informed his brother. "Dad called," he added, heading upstairs. "He said to stay home and he's be in for dinner and let us in on what was going down tonight." With that said, Joe took the rest of the steps two at a time and disappeared from view.  
Frank went into the living room and turned on the news. By the time Joe came back down, the weatherman was forcasting a severe storm watch for the night, complete with heavy rain and high winds.  
"He's nuts!" Joe proclaimed, picking up the remote and turning the television off. "It's hot and beautiful, and did I say hot?" he asked witht he lift of an eyebrow.  
Frank smiled and shook his head . "There's a hurricane off the coast," he told Joe. "Haven't you been watching the news the past few days?"  
"Nah," Joe said with a shake of his head. "It's too nice outside to deal with depressing stuff."  
"What about Kenny?" Frank inquired.  
"Doesn't count," Joe said, shaking a finger at Frank. "you know we know more than the cops about this case and the cops know more than the media." He looked at his watch. "Dinner isn't for another two hours," Joe said. "Let's head to the arcade."  
"Dad said to stay put," Frank reminded his brother.  
"We'll be back in time," Joe coaxed.  
"No, we're staying here and that's final," he insisted. "How about a game of Monopoly?" he suggested, seeing Joe's mutinous expression.  
"No," Joe replied, mimicing Frank's tone. "I'm going to the arcade. I'll be back in one and a half hours, tops," he promised as he turned to leave.  
"Mom!" Frank shouted. He knew their mother could make him stay.  
Joe sniggered. "She went to see Sarah Davis," he told Frank. "She'll be back in time for dinner. She's bringing take-out." he added, leaving.  
Frank leaned back on the sofa in disgust. He didn't care what his dad said. He had never been as annoying as Joe had become.  
Joe returned home in less than an hour. He had decided to check out the residents of Baker's Street, but one of the residents had seen him first. Coming up behind Joe, the man slipped a gun into the small of his back. "Be a good boy and you might live to see the sunset," came a whisper in his ear.  
Joe was ordered into a green Subaru and told to drive. The thug, a short, thick set man with blue eyes and black hair whom Joe recogonized immediately from one of the mugh shots Con had shown him as Delvin Matthews, gave Joe directions which led to his own house.  
He ordered Joe out of the car and into the kitchen. "Joe, is that you?" Frank asked, hearing the door and coming into the kitchen. Frank stopped in the doorway as he saw Matthews standing behind Joe.  
"Now that the gang's all here," Matthews said, "let's get down to business. You," he said, looking into Frank's eyes, "go get the money your brother and Kenny took from Testerman." Frank opened his mouth to argue but Matthews took a hold of Joe's shoulder and held him tight, raising the gun to the base of Joe's head. "Now or he dies."  
"We don't have the money," Joe told the man, swallowing nervously.  
Matthews squeezed Joe's shoulder hard, making him wince in pain. "I won't say it again," he ordered Frank. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Frank swallowed and nodded. "I'll go and get it," he said, realizing if he didn't do something, Joe was dead.  
"You've got three minutes," Matthews told him. "If you're not back here with the money, Blondie dies and you're next."  
Frank nodded and ran upstairs to his father's office. He grabbed his dad's briefcase and dumped the contents onto the desk. He shut the briefcase and pulled open the top drawer of his father's desk. He removed the pistol his father kept there and tucked it into the back of his pants, pulling his shirt down over it before returning downstairs. When he got to the kitchen he paled visibly and his eyes widened in horror. Joe was lying, unmoving, on the floor.  
"You said I had three minutes!" Frank screamed.  
"He's not dead," Matthews informed Frank. "He tried to get away so I had to put him to sleep," he added, grinning with pleasure. "Of course," he continued, "if the money's not in the briefcase, he will be dead."  
Frank looked at the man with hatred even as his heart filled with hope. His father was standing outside with his finger to his lips. Frank had to create a diversion to allow his father time to get inside. He stepped closer to Matthews and held out the briefcase. As Matthews reached for it, Frank let it fall from his hand. Startled, Matthews looded down for a fraction of a second but that was all the time Frank needed. He grabbed Mathhews' hand which held the gun and forced it up as his father came inside. It took only seconds to disarm Matthews. Fenton held the gun on him while Frank checked on Joe. It took a couple of minutes but Joe finally opened his eyes. Frank helped Joe up and into a chair.  
"Are you okay, son?" Fenton asked with concern, glancing at Joe as he gingerly touched the back of his head and winced.  
"Yeah-oh!" he shouted as Frank probbed Joe's head.  
"There's a lump, but it's not too big and there's no blood," Frank reported.  
"Frank, call the police for our friend here," Fenton instructed his eldest son. "Joe, go and help your mother," he ordered, seeing Laura's car pull into the driveway through the window.  
Joe got up and went outside. He and his mom came back in through the living room to avoid giving Matthews a chance to try anything. Not much later, Matthews was off to jail and the Subaru he had been driving was impounded. The Hardys sat down to have Chinese take-out.  
"Now, would someone care to explain what Matthews was doing here?" Fenton asked.  
Frank looked at Joe who reddened as his parents turned to look at him also. Joe explained about going to Baker's Street.  
"Didn't I tell you to stay here?" Fenton demanded, more exasperated than angry.  
"There was time before dinner," Joe replied with a shrug.  
"Joe, you nearly got yourself and your brother killed," Fenton began his lecture.  
"We've been in worse spots," Joe said, interuppting. "And that's one less we have to worry about," he added.  
"That's not the point," Fenton told his youngest son sternly. "I specifically requested you to remain at home while I arranged for a sting tonight. Your going to town and Matthews' arrest have probably ruined that. I will be greatly surprised if anyone shows up tonight."  
"Sorry," Joe mumbled, looking down at his half-eaten dinner and no longer feeling hungry.  
"That's not good enough," Fenton declared. "As of now, you are no longer allowed to participate in this case," he decreed.  
"No fair!" Joe shouted, looking up at his father in surprise. "You can't make Frank do this alone. These guys are dangerous," he reasoned, sure his father would change his mind.  
"I know," Fenton replied calmly. "Which is why Frank will be working with me," he told Joe. "You are to stay in the house or in the yard until this case is closed."  
"But..." Joe started.  
"No buts," Fenton cut him off sharply. "Tomorrow will be a good day to mow the lawn and trim the hedges," he added meaningfully. "And if you think you might be bored or if it rains, you can clean out the garage."  
Joe looked at Frank hopefully, but he just gave a slight shrug which clearly said Joe had it coming. Joe sat back in his chair in disgust. "May I be excused?"  
"You may," Laura told him with a sharp glance at Fenton. She felt Fenton was being too hard on Joe after all he had been through the past few days but she knew a united front was the only way to keep Joe from disobeying again.  
After Joe had left the table, Fenton told Frank about the sting. "Agent Mason with the DEA has arranged a buy with Andrews for this evening. Smyte and Benton were supposed to be present but since Matthews is now in jail for kidnaping, they may not show."  
"What did you want me and Joe to do?" Frank asked.  
"Obviously the money Kenny took is still missing," Fenton replied. "And not only are the bad guys looking for it but so are the police. I know his house has been throughly searched but I still think the money is hidden there somewhere."  
"You wanted us to go search for the money?" Frank asked, confused. "We could have done that earlier."  
"I know," Fenton replied with a sigh. "I really wanted you two to go in with Agent Mason, in disguise of course. He was supposed to be bringing two of his newest dealers at the high school level with him and there's no one who looks even remotely young enough to pull it off in the Bayport brach of the DEA," he explained.  
"I can still go in," Frank volunteered. "We could say Joe got busted."  
Fenton shook his head. "Too risky. I don't want you in this one undercover by yourself."  
"But we could catch the head man if they buy it," Frank argued.  
"No!" Fenton said loudly, stressing the word.. "We'll find out who the money man is behind Andrews some other way," he insisted. He looked at Frank's depressed face and relented a bit. "You can come with me tonight anyway," he said. "We'll be stationed in the warehouse beside where the deal is supposed to go down."  
After dinner, Frank ran upstairs to change into some jeans and a dark tee shirt. Joe poked his head in the door of Frank's room. "It's safe," Frank told him with a grin. Joe walked inside and sat down on the bed, watching Frank slide his shirt on over his head.  
"Be careful," Joe said, worried.  
"Don't worry," Frank told him. "Dad changed plans. I'm not going to be in the line of fire even if the deal does go down."   
"I really blew it, huh?" Joe asked quietly.  
"Yeah," Frank agreed, prepared to give Joe a lecture until he looked over and saw the glum expression on Joe's face. "Look," he said, going over to sit beside Joe. "It's only for this one case," he said, trying to get Joe to perk up. "Besides," he added, reaching an arm over and pushing a lock of Joe's hair from his eyes, "you need the rest after today."  
Joe gave a small derisive laugh. "I guess I do at that," he responded, smiling at Frank. "You know something?" he asked.  
"What?" Frank asked warily.  
"I'm glad you're my brother," Joe told him.  
"Back at ya," Frank said, giving Joe a quick hug before standing up. "I'll see you in the morning," he told Joe before going downstairs to join his father.  
By the time Frank and Fenton arrived at the warehouse, the sun had set and a cool breeze was blowing. Fenton parked his car and he and Frank went inside to join Agents Mason, Davenport and Cortez. Fenton told the trio about Matthews' arrest but they had already heard and agreed it would be too dangerous to allow Frank to continue on his own.  
Agent Mason left and prepared for the deal to happen. Three hours later, no one having shown up, the men reassembled in the warehouse and called it a night. The wind had picked up and what had started out as a light drizzle had turned into a harsh downpour. Fenton and Frank climbed into the car and turned the radio on. The storm warning had become a tornado warning in the time they had been on stakeout. Fenton sped up a little, in a hurry to get home. There was a flash of lightening followed by a loud crack of thunder. before the sound had dimished, another bolt of lightening glashed and a tree by the roadside began to fall. Fenton put on the brakes, but he was too late. The tree crashed onto the roof of their car. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Twelve  
  
"Are you all right Son?" Fenton asked, reaching over and touching Frank's shoulder. They had both gotten a jolt when the tree had crashed behind them, only branches falling onto the car. But for their seatbelts, both would have gone through the windshield.  
"Yeah," Frank assured his father, unbuckling his seat belt. He tried to open his door but it was kept closed by one of the tree's massive branches.  
"Sorry," Fenton said ruefully. "If I hadn't put on the brakes, it would have missed us."  
"Don't worry about it," Frank told him as another bolt of lightening lit up the night sky.  
"Oh, no," Fenton siad softly, staring out the front windshield. He undid his seat belt and pushed open his door. Frank, who had also seen the twister in the front windshield, was right behind his father as he climbed out the driver's door. They ran as fast as they could toward the gulley on the other side of the highway. They dived down and scrambled up the other side, positioning themselves behind the great stone pillar which helped to support the road above.  
The noise got louder as the funnel cloud got closer. They kept their heads tucked inside and closed their eyes to avoid flying debris. Otherwise, they might have seen the car they had just vacated and the tree which had stopped them, get swept up and tossed, coming down a few hundred yards away, hood first into the pavement as the twister continued it's eastward journey. After what seemed like hours, but in reality were mere minutes, the noise was gone as was the thunder and lightening. The rain had descended into a normal downpour and the night air was cool.  
Frank and Fenton stood up and looked at the devastation caused by the twister. Frank gave a low whistle when he saw their car, the only man-made thing which had been in the line of fire on the stretch of road they had been travelling on.  
Not wanting to jog all the way home in the rain, they sat back down and waited for it to end.  
  
Three hours earlier at the Hardy house, Laura had become alarmed when she heard about the tornado warning. "Relax," Joe said, trying to calm his mother. "Frank and Dad will take cover." She nodded, realizing Joe was right. "And we need to go down to the basement," he added.  
"You're right," she agreed, standing up. "I'll go get some bottled water and the radio and you go get some flashlights." Joe ran upstairs to grab his and Frank's flashlights and rushed back downstairs.  
"Mom," he called out, reaching the living room.  
"In here," she called back from the kitchen.  
Joe came into the kitchen with one flashlight tucked under his arm and the other open in his hands. "Do we have any more batteries?" he asked, looking up and freezing.  
Benton stood there, holding a gun to his mother's head. Before Joe could even register what was happening, each of his arms were taken into vice-like grips. Both flashlights fell to the floor as Joe's head swiveled from left to right, revealing his captor's to be none other than Kurt Smyte and Charlie Andrews. "Your money isn't here," Joe told them.  
"I actually believe you," Benton told Joe from behind his mother. "But you know where it is and I'm betting so does the rest of your family." He pushed Laura to the floor.  
"You creep!" Joe shouted, trying to lunge at him while Andrews and Smyte held fast and laughed.  
"Female hostages are far too much trouble," Benton said. He looked down at Laura. "Give a message to your husband and son," he ordered her. "They must get the briefcase of money and have it here by noon tomorrow. I'll call and let them know where to leave it then." He gave her a thin smile as he continued, "Be sure to impress on them the seriousness of the situation," he added. Bending over and taking her chin in his hand, he forced her to look over at Joe.   
Smyte had taken hold of both of Joe's arms so Andrews could remove a lighter from his pocket. Andrews pulled one of Joe's arms away from Smyte and held it straight out. He lit the lighter beneath Joe's arm causing Joe to howl in pain as the flame touched his arm.  
"No!" Laura screamed, tears starting to fall from her eyes.  
"Noon tomorrow," Benton repeated, as Andrews put his lighter back up. "Unless you want your baby here to be charcoal." He pulled her to her feet.  
"Leave her alone!" Joe demanded, his anger stronger than the pain which still choursed through him although the burning had been brief.  
"Easy, kid," Benton ordered Joe. "I'm not going to hurt her. She's got a message to deliver." With that, he pushed her over to the basement door. "Move," he told her, forcing her inside. She took three steps down the basement steps and the door was shut and locked behind her. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Thirteen  
  
Fenton and Frank arrived home shortly after daybreak. Fenton reached for the knob at the kitchen door and frowned when it opened. He pulled out his gun and, motioning Frank to keep a look-out, entered. He could see two bottles of water on the kitchen counter and a flashlight lying on the floor. A few feet away were scattered the remains of another. He headed toward the living room quietly but his foot came into contact with a battery and it went skidding across the floor, banging into the leg of the kitchen table.  
Almost immediately, a pounding could be heard from behind the basement door. Frank came inside as he saw his father replace his gun and go over to the basement door. Pulling the door open, Fenton staggered back a step as his wife fell into his arms.  
"Where have you been?" she screamed at him, her bloodshot eyes filled with fear. "They're going to kill Joe!"  
"What?" Frank demanded, his face having gone ghostly white.  
"Sit down," Fenton said, leading her over to a chair. She sat down as Frank got her a glass of water. "Slowly," Fenton ordered. "Tell us what happened."  
Laura told them about the three men who broke into the house and how they had burned Joe's arm and locked her in the basement. "Where is their money?" she demanded. "They said you have to have the briefcase of money here by noon or they'll kill him," she ended, fresh tears starting to fall as the memory of Joe's scream returned.   
"We don't know," Frank informed her dully. He looked up at his father. Neither of them had gotten any sleep and they were both wearing damp clothes. "I'm going over to Kenny's," Frank told his father. "The money has to be there somewhere."  
Fenton nodded. "Let's change," he said, regretting taking Joe off the case. "We'll both go and and hunt for it," he added, thinking Joe would be safe if he had let him go with them last night. He helped Laura to her feet. "Take a nap," he ordered her. "We'll be back with the money before noon," he promised.  
Thirty minutes later, Frank was standing on the top floor of Kenny's house. His father was searching the ground floor and they would both tackle the basement and garage if they hadn't found anything.   
He began by tearing the covers off of the bed and looking between the mattress and springs. Then he checked to see if there could be a way to insert something into the mattress or springs. No luck. He pulled all the drawers from the bureau and poured the contents on the bare bed springs. Then he looked behind the bureau and under the bed, checking the floor for loose boards as he went. Next, he opened the closet and threw all the clothes onto the floor. He pulled the two boxes from the top of the closet and emptied them. Nothing. He went into the second and last bedroom upstairs and repeated the procedure. Lastly, he checked the upstairs bathroom, delving through the items beneath the sink.  
Leaving the mess he had made, he ran back downstairs. "Nothing," Frank told his father in disgust as he reached the living room.   
Fenton stood up from where he had been cutting the lining beneath the sofa. "There's nothing here either," he said. "And we're running out of time."  
They went to the basement and made a quick but thorough search. "Only one place left to look," Frank said as they walked back up the basement stairs.  
In the garage they first searched the car, then the shelves and other boxes stored there. "Blast it!" Frank shouted in frustration, kicking an empty bucket and watching it roll down the drive toward the trash.  
"Might as well make this thorough," Frank said, walking toward the trash. He grabbed a bag and pulled it open. The stench of rotting bannana peels assaulted his nose but he reached inside and started feeling around. Not expecting to find anything, his eyes widened in shocked disbelief and he let out an excited yell that brought his father running just in time to see Frank pull a dirty briefcase from the bag. Setting it down on the ground, Frank opened it up. It was filled with money. "We found it!" Frank shouted gratefully, looking up into his father's eyes.  
"Let's get home," Fenton said, looking at his watch. "It's almost noon." He knew there would be plenty of time to return and clean up the mess he and Frank had made later.   
Laura met them at the door when they arrived. She had been unable to rest, worrying about Joe. "You found it!" she exclaimed in relief when she spotted the briefcase in Frank's hand.  
Less than ten minutes later, the phone rang. "Hello," Fenton answered, snatching up the receiver before it had finished it's first ring.  
"Do you have the briefcase?" asked a voice from the other end.  
"I do," Fenton acknowledged. "Let me speak to Joe."  
"When I get my money back, you'll see your son," Benton told him.  
"You're not getting the money until I know my son's still alive," Fenton insisted stubbornly.  
"A fair request," Benton admitted.  
Seconds later the receiver was placed next to Joe's face. "Say hello to Daddy," Benton ordered him.  
"Hi Dad," Joe responded thickly.  
"Son, are you okay?" Fenton demanded, heavy lines of worry clouding his face as he heard his son speak.  
"Not really," Joe replied, closing his eyes. He was having a hard time staying focused.  
Benton took the phone away and spoke to Fenton. "See, he's still alive."  
"What did you give him?" Fenton demanded harshly.  
"Something to make him more manageable," came the reply followed by a small laugh. "Even wounded, he's a handful. Don't worry, Hardy," Benton continued. "He's only had two injections. Besides, most people enjoy a little Heaven."  
Fenton gripped the receiver tightly. His knuckles as white as freshly fallen snow. "Leave the briefcase in the front seat of your sons' van. Unlocked, of course," he added. "Leave the van parked outside of Baines' Mini-Mart at midnight tonight. Use the parking space fartherest from the building. If you, the police, or anyone else is around, you can keep the money to pay for the funeral expenses." With these words, the line went dead.  
"Dad?" Frank asked as his father hung up the phone, his lips tight, his eyes sad.  
"They're giving him heroin," Fenton said, his voice a whisper.  
"When do we get him back?" Laura asked, placing a hand on her husband's arm.  
"I don't know," he said. He told them about the instructions. "He never said where he would leave Joe."  
"Because they're going to kill him," Frank said, voicing the fear they all shared. "Do you think they would have him at Crawford Lane?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.  
"No," Fenton answered, shaking his head. "When I turned in the gun you had, I tagged along while the place was raided. They had already cleared out."  
"I'm afraid they have the next move," Fenton said. "Let's get a few hours rest and then prepare for tonight," he suggested.  
The fact that he hadn't had any sleep the previous night didn't help Frank. He lay on his bed replaying everything that had happened in his head. "Baker's Street," he said softly to himself, sitting up. He thought about waking his dad but decided if he found nothing then his father would need his rest to handle the drop tonight.  
Frank quickly dressed and headed downstairs. He was just on his way out when the phone rang. He grabbed the receiver after the first ring.  
"Hey," said a familiar voice.  
"Chet?" Frank asked in surprise. "Where are you?"  
"At home," he replied. "A twister touched down last night at camp. Messed the place up pretty bad but no one got hurt," he explained.  
"We got one last night too," Frank replied, a thoughtful look coming over his face. "Is Biff back too?" he asked.  
"Yeah," Chet said. "He's here. We were wondering if you and Joe wanted to hit the beach? The hurricane changed course last night and it's gorgeous out! There should still be some great waves for surfing though."  
"Joe's been kidnaped," Frank told Chet.  
"What? When? By who? Can we help?" Chet asked in rapid succession, not giving Frank time to answer.  
"And how!" Frank exclaimed. "I'm on my way out now. Stay put and I'll fill you guys in when I get there."  
It didn't take Frank long to arrive at the Morton farm on the out-skirts of town. He was met by blond-headed, green-eyed, seventeen year old Chet Morton as he got out of the car. Frank grinned at his stout friend and the two made their way to the porch where eighteen year old, blond, beefy, Biff Hooper stood waiting anxiously.  
"So what gives?" Biff demanded, his blue eyes alight with curiosity. "How did Joe get kidnaped? Do you have any leads? Have you heard from the kidnapers?" he pelted Frank with questions as Chet had on the phone.  
As the three sat down on the porch steps, Frank began telling his friends about the case starting with the murder in the alley. "So you see," he ended, "this case keeps going back to Baker's Street."  
"And you want to set yourself up as a target by hanging out there and asking questions?" Biff guessed shrewdly. Frank nodded. "And when you get kidnaped, we follow," Biff added.  
"Right," Frank agreed. He looked at the sour expressions on his friends' faces. "Look, I know it's a lousy idea, but it's the only way we're going to be able to find Joe."  
"All right," Chet said, standing up. ""Let's get started."  
It was decided Chet would position himself at the bus stop and Biff, after parking his van and walking around the block would follow Frank in from the alley.  
Frank exited the alley and walked slowly west on Baker's Street. He entered the first store he came to, which was a delicatessen. He described, Benton, Andrews, Matthews, and Smyte, and inquired if they had been seen. Then he inquired about the tenants in the apartments above the shop. Learning nothing, Frank left and entered the next building, a jewelry shop.  
"Good afternoon," Frank was greeted by the gray-haired owner, Mervin Davenport. "How may I be of service today?"  
Frank again described the the men and asked if they had been seen.  
"Yesterday morning," Davenport replied. "The short, heavy set one came striding in front of my window with a blond boy," he told Frank. "I don't know where they were going though," he continued. "I was busy with a customer at the time."  
"Well, thank you for your help," Frank told the man with a smile that never reached his eyes. Frank left the building and looked over at Chet. Chet, knowing something must be up, gave Frank a brief nod and paid close attention to the jewelry shop. Before Frank had advanced ten feet, a man came out of the jewelry shop and began following Frank. As the man got closer to Frank, Chet got off the bench and walked up the street on the opposite side of Frank. Biff followed behind Frank and his shadow.  
The long-haired man caught up to Frank and stuck a revolver into Frank's side as he captured his arm. "Just keep walking and you might live long enough to see your brother," he was warned. Frank swallowed the triumphant cheer which threatened to erupt. The plan had worked.  
Frank was forced into the back seat of a Subaru. Before he could look to see if Biff and Chet had noticed what kind of car it was, he felt something hard come crashing down onto the back of his head. He slumped forward, unconscious. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Fourteen  
  
When Frank came to, he found he was bound, hand and foot, to a chair. His mouth had been taped shut. He looked around, wincing as his head argued with the movement. Over on a bed, near the far wall, lay his brother. He had been tied to the bed and his mouth, too, was covered with tape but Frank sincerely doubted if Joe would have been able to talk even if it weren't. His eyes held a kind of far-away expression and Frank knew Joe was no longer fully aware of what was happening.  
Frank had read enough of his father's books to know this was the beginning of an addiction. The heroin transported the user and made him feel as if nothing mattered. This was one of the reasons heroin had obtained Heaven as one of it's street names. The downside came when the user had to keep increasing the dosage to feel the same effect.  
As Frank looked at his baby brother, lying helpless in his stupor, he felt a burning rage. Now he understood what had driven Kenny to kill the men responsible for his son's death. And he also understood why the money had been in the trash. Kenny hadn't wanted the money. He had only wanted to hurt these men in the only way they could be hurt. For these men obviously had no scruples and the Paper God was the only thing they cared about.  
Frank pulled at his bonds, trying to get enough slack to free himself, but to no avail. Unwilling to admit defeat, he kept at it until the bedroom door opened and in walked Benton, Andrews, and the jeweler, Davenport.  
"You should have waited until tonight," Davenport told Frank, removing the tape from his mouth.  
"Joe would have been dead," Frank responded, his eyes full of hatred.  
"Nonsense!" Davenport declared. "Why, young Joesph is on his way to becoming a client of ours. You, on the otherhand, have seen me. I knew when you came into my shop you had discovered I was in charge of the action on this side of town."  
"No," Frank denied with a shake of his head and a smirk on his face. "I had no idea until you told me you had seen Joe and Matthews walking past your window yesterday. Matthews surprised Joe from behind. That means Joe had to of walked past your window by himself."  
"I see," Davenport said softly, as he looked over at the bed. "Isn't it time for our young friend's next injection?" he asked Benton.  
"Leave him alone!" Frank shouted.  
"Tsk, tsk," Davenport told Frank, shaking his head. "If he doesn't get anymore now, he'll probably die. Withdrawal can be a killer, you know," he added, a smile playing around his lips.  
'Where are Chet and Biff?' Frank thought wildly as he watched Benton insert the needle into Joe's arm.  
Chet and Biff had followed the Subaru at a discreet distance. They had watched as it pulled off the highway and down a side alley several miles from where they had started.Biff stopped the van long enough to let Chet out while he went to park. Chet saw Frank pulled out of the car and carried into a run-down apartment building.   
Biff caught up with Chet and they followed Frank and his kidnaper inside the building and up the stairs to an apartment. There they eased the apartment door open, thanking their lucky stars it was left unlocked, and watched as Frank was dropped onto the sofa.  
"We got the other Hardy boy," Smyte said. "What are we going to do with him?"  
"Mervin called," Benton said. "He wants us to tie him up and keep him with the other one."  
"We're letting Hardy have them both?" Smyte demanded.  
"Nah," Benton replied. "Only Blondie. By the time Hardy gets him some help it'll be too late. He'll be hooked and he'll be ready to work for us." He paused and looked down at the unconscious youth on the sofa. "This one saw the boss," he said. "He has to die but the boss wants him to suffer first."  
"I don't see why Mervin had to have the money back," Smyte complained. "It was only half a million. We make that much in a month. It isn't worth all the trouble the Hardys have caused."  
"It's not the money," Andrews explained from the bedroom doorway. "It's the briefcase. There's over ten million dollars of diamonds stashed inside the lining."  
Smyte whistled. "And Testerman didn't notice?" he asked in disbelief.  
Benton shrugged. "Looks like the dope would bring in enough money, but oh no, HE has to smuggle diamonds too."  
"Watch it," Andrews warned him. "Mervin killed his last partner becasue he didn't like the way he petted his dog. Mervin comes off cool, but he's a live wire."  
Smyte picked Frank up and carried him into the bedroom. Biff quietly closed the door and he and Chet raced back down the stairs and outside.  
"You stay and keep watch," Biff told Chet. "I'm going to find Mr. Hardy," he added, running back to his van.  
Chet took a post at the side of a beer joint across the street. When he saw a car pull up which had been parked on Baker's Street just minutes earlier and a gray haired man get out and go in the building, he followed.  
Unlike before, Chet could not get the apartment door open. This man had been smart enough to lock it after entering. So he left the building and returned to his post across the street. A few minutes later, Biff pulled up with Mr. Hardy in the passenger seat. He walked over tot he van. Mr. Hardy told Chet the police were closing in as they spoke.  
Chet looked around. Apart from a few bums, he didn't see anyone. He looked back to Mr. Hardy who was smiling. "We thought it best if these men didn't see any police until it was too late."  
At that point, one of the bums ambled over to the van. "We're in position," he told Fenton. Chet's jaw dropped as he recognized Con Riley.  
"Chet, Biff and I are going inside," Fenton told Con. "You can follow, but wait until we get in before you make a move." Con nodded and slowly strolled down the street, coming to a stop near another shabbily dressed man beside the apartment complex's entrance.  
Biff and Fenton got out of the van and entered the apartment building. They had almost reached the apartment when they heard the unmistakable voice of Frank screaming, "You killed him!" 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Road to Heaven  
Chapter Fifteen  
  
Biff, by far the largest of the group, ran full blast into the door, his arm flexed as he connected with it. The door crashed open, splinters of wood flying in every direction as he barreled intot he room. Chet tackled Smyte, who had jumped to his feet from the sofa when the door burst open, pushing him back into a chair which toppled over. Chet's fist slammed into the man's surprised face as the others raced into the bedroom where Frank was shouting at the men to untie Joe and give him CPR.  
Fenton decked Davenport with a swift right uppercut as Biff threw himself at Andrews. The two fell wrestling to the floor as Fenton rushed over to Joe.  
Joe had indeed quit breathing and Fenton pulled out his knife and began hacking away at the ropes which bound Joe to the bed. Officer Riley and Agent Mason, who had followed Mr. Hardy and the boys inside rushed into the melee. Con came over to help Fenton with Joe while Agent Mason helped Biff subdue Andrews. It didn't take long to get the ropes off Joe. They lifted him off the bed and placed him on the floor.  
Chet came into the room as Fenton began CPR on Joe. Con was radioing for an ambulance so Chet untied Frank who hurried over to kneel beside Joe, prepared to take over CPR when his father got tired.  
Within ten minutes, the ambulance had arrived and taken Joe to the hospital. Frank nor Fenton had been allowed to ride in the ambulance because Joe had regained consciousness but kept convulsing.  
The police and DEA took control of the prisoners and blocked off the apartment. Agent Mason informed the Hardys the prisoner's vehicles would be impounded and searched and search warrants for Davenport's jewely shop and home were being issued.  
Biff drove the Hardys and Chet to the hospital where Fenton called Laura and asked her to meet them. It was almost three hours before Joe was stabilized and placed in a room on the fourth floor. Someone would have to remain with him at all times. Unfortunately, Bayport Memorial wasn't set up to deal with drug addictions. The following morning, Joe would be transferred to The Edna Dulcimer Foundation where he would be placed on a heorin withdrawal regiment which would eliminate his dependency while reduciong the risks associated with withdrawal.  
Con Riley dropped in late that evening to update the Hardys on the case. Chet and Biff had left earlier. "Smyte confessed to helping kill Kenny Wallace," Con told them. "He also told us where to find their latest shipment of heroin."  
"So you have enough evidence to put them all away?" Laura asked, her face hopeful.  
"More than enough," Con concurred. "Davenport was running a diamond smuggling operation on the side. His jewelry store was the perfect front. The cases which were imported from Africa that carried his legitimate merchandise also contained the contraband."  
"What about the heroin?" Frank asked. "How did it get through customs?"  
"That, we don't know," Con answered with a frown. "The DEA are still questioning the men but only Smyte is talking and he doesn't know who the supplier is."  
"Excuse me," Nurse Johnson said, coming into Joe's room. "All but one of you will have to leave now." Con stood up and said he's visit Joe when he was feeling better.  
Laura stood up and leaned over her still unconscious son. She kissed his cheek and pushed his hair a little further away from his face. "I'll see you tomorrow baby," she whispered softly then moved away so Fenton could say goodbye.  
Fenton bent over Joe, kissed his cheek and stood up. His eyes wre bright with remorse as he stared down at his son. "I'm so sorry Joe," he said. "If only I'd taken you with me and Frank this wouldn't have happened."  
Frank, who overheard, looked up at his father. "No," he told him. "He would be dead and so would I."  
"What?" Fenton asked, confused.  
"They knew Joe from the beginning," Frank told him. "If he and I had shown up as the new dealers like you had originally planned, they would have been suspicious and maybe even known right away it was a set-up."  
"You're right," Fenton replied with a sigh. He had a thoughtful look on his face as he continued. "You two are pretty well known around town. Davenport may have even recognized Joe when Kenny kidnaped him." He looked down at Joe. "It's still not right though," he said. Joe had followed his orders and had been hurt for it. 'What kind of father am I?' he thought.  
Laura and Fenton left, leaving Frank alone with Joe. Frank finally fell asleep in the chair beside Joe. He had no idea how long he had been asleep but when he heard gagging he had to force his eyes open. His body aching, he jumped from his chair and rushed over to Joe's side, hitting the call button when he reached it.   
"Yes?" the nurse on call asked.  
"He's having a seizure," Frank said, trying to hold Joe down so he couldn't hurt himself. A minute later, a nurse and two orderlies came running into the room and told Frank to wait in the hall. As he left, a doctor went inside.  
Frank leaned against the wall, slowly sinking to the floor. He sat there with his head on his crossed arms resting atop his knees until the doctor left Joe's room. "Mr. Hardy," the doctor said, approaching him. Frank stood up, his face pale and anxious.  
"He's awake now, but very ill. He could have another seizure at any time. Don't let him out of your sight even to go to the bathroom."  
"I won't," Frank promised. "Do you have any idea how long it will take for the drug to leave his system?" he asked before the doctor could leave.  
"That really depends on your brother," the doctor replied.  
"What do you mean?" Frank demanded.  
"Heroin causes a mental addiction as much as a physical one. Users, teens especially, become addicted because they enjoy the feeling of euphoria it gives them."  
"Why teens especially?" Frank inquired.  
"They ususally start experimenting in their rebellious phase," the doctor explained. "Their brains are more suspectible to change and the heroin is more easily incorporated into their system."  
"So what you're saying is that if Joe is in his rebellious stage then..." Frank started.  
"Then his detox could last a long while."  
  
Continued in Highway from Hell 


End file.
